Caethwasiaeth
by BlackxValentine
Summary: 'Yondu knew where he was, there is no need to look at the dented metal door, the grease stains on the keypad. He could not help but wonder how many times in the past month he had found himself here, standing with the same blank expression.' With a member of his crew gone, Yondu sets out to take back what's his. Contains torture, and mentions of past slavery. Rating may change.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Guardians of the Galaxy**

* * *

Time was nothing, time was worthless, time had stopped; he lay still on the concrete, chain rattling with every shake while water dripped onto his cheekbone. His strength failing him while water, precious water, slid like tears, his thirst increasing with every drop soiled. Blood slips past his nose from his temple, falling onto his cracked lips; metallic fluid fell through, hitting his taste buds, his mind whirling while he took in whatever liquid he was able to.

Not that he had much of a choice, given the fact of being too weak to move his head, let alone find a fresh water source in the cell.

His hunger almost nonexistent after four weeks with nothing more than table scrapes, even those going to waste when thrown out of his reach, molding before his eyes. Truthfully, the pain only comes in spurts, his body growing numb to it, while his bones protruded. Footsteps stop outside his cell, the silence never ceases to cause uneasiness in the pit of his shrunken stomach before the door swung open. The constricting chain pulled from his left ankle and tossed aside, leaving deep indents.

"Cael iddo allan, rwan!"

The nails of the slavers dug into his right arm they threw him onto his back, pulling him from the cell. His body slid across every crack and pebble as they dragged him by his foot, the rocking of his head worsening the nausea that now made its way to his throat.

It is so strange, feeling your body dying from the inside out without a means to stop it. Taking notice of how in the dim lights that falls through the bars above, your skin turning grayish. It is as if your body says, _'ever wanted to feel your eyes sinking back into your skull? Well, here you go'._ The man's mind drifted.

Everything inside seemed to be giving out, and yet the pain of injuries partially closed cling to life, as a sharper rock digs into a scabbing wound on his upper back. What little blood he seemed to have left spilled from the reopened gash, the warmth of it covering the back of his shoulder and head, leaving a trail that will become another stain on the ground; a mark of his time here. The group stops suddenly, leaving him to stare up at the molded ceiling while dripped down, their grip tightening, raising it higher before letting gravity take over.

His leg falls in slow motion; he shuts his eyes and takes a breath as the fragile heel cracks on impact. He isn't able to hold back the cry that fell from his lips as all the pain returns

Somehow, he managed to roll onto his side, bile immediately spilling from his lips as the pain raced through his body. Each time his stomach contracts, his body shakes, he can hear them laughing at his weakness. One of the three creatures grabs a handful of his hair and pulls, it laughs as he moans through clenched teeth.

"gallwch chi ddim ymdopi a asgwrn wedi torri?"

He had no time to rest before they lifted him from the floor, his world spun as he spit whatever sick remained in his mouth in their direction. The efforts of are fruitless, his newfound energy gone as the leader pointed to a bundle of chains in the corner.

"clymu fo i fyny."

* * *

**Please let me know what you all think, and if you want me to continue. The 'alien language', which is actually Welsh and I would like to thank CutieLemon07 for showing me how to write the Welsh sentences properly.  
**

**The translations from google are:**

"**Cael iddo allan, rwan!"** – _"Have him outside, now!"_

"**clymu fo i fyny."** – _"Tie him up."_

**"gallwch chi ddim ymdopi a asgwrn wedi torri?" -** _"Can you deal with a broken bone?"_


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own Guardians of the Galaxy**

* * *

Everything was dark, peaceful… Quiet. It makes one forget that they spent the last four weeks in a place of misery, and allows dreams of where they would rather be. He dreams of his bed, his tools lying about the room, always something to fix or tinker with for fun.

He almost smells the oil, sweat, and yes, blood that fills the air. There's always someone bleeding, drunk, or training, it is nothing out of the ordinary for a ship such as his. Barbaric behavior in the eyes of others is his way of life; it's all he has known besides slavery. Now his dreams of home soured by the images of his life prior to the crew he would come to call his family, quickly he wracked his brain to conjure up the images of specific people, anything to bury the past.

Long greasy beard, round body and face, always spoke his mind, which got him into trouble more times than he could count; metal eye, tall, intimidating, never backs down from a challenge, even if the odds are against him. Walkman, light beard, tall, dancing, smiling, positive attitude no matter what crosses his path. Blue skin, scars on his head, crimson eyes, crooked teeth, raspy voice, harsh nature but also kind in his own way; tough but fair, always willing to face death itself for the sake of a job or the good of his crew.

The images of those he cared for left too soon; a fist to the kidney waking him from his momentary rest. Back to the chains that stretch and pull at his skin as he dangles from the ceiling, swaying back and forth as his tormentors approach with a heated piece of metal.

* * *

The ship groans as she turned, everything seems normal for now. Crew tinkering with parts, looking over schematics for additions set for construction within the year. Everyone acting natural, not paying any attention to the feeling of emptiness that hung in the air, when all it did was draw his attention, with every act of _normalcy_, the empty feeling grew. For a month, it has grown to the point of feeling tight, almost unnerving.

The captain wandered the ship, ignoring any question pertaining to his well-being, not even glancing at the crew-members fighting in the mess area. Questions came to mind, and remained unanswered as his feet move on autopilot to the sleeping quarters, stopping about six rooms down and to the left.

Yondu knew where he was, there is no need to look at the dented metal door, the grease stains on the keypad. He could not help but wonder how many times in the past month he had found himself here, standing with the same blank expression. With a steady hand he punches in the code, feeling the familiar whoosh of cold air as the door slid up into the ceiling, the two lights above flickering to life as he pushed a button to the left of the door; everything was the same.

Unused parts, cans of oil, old tools, all scattered in the room, each in a different corner, one small bed tucked away to the upper left, a single pillow and blanket lay on it, the bed neatly made. A storage bin to the right of the door containing all his clothing, there was not much there, that he knew. Small knick-knacks collected over the years sit atop the bin, giving softer personality to the room.

The room told you all you needed to know about his first mate. The bed and storage bin were made up every morning before he left, keeping his personal items in order was important to him, while anything to do with hobbies lay strewn about. The man had a tendency to get deep into whatever he was working on, his hands and work clothes a lot of times stained with different chemicals and oils from his afternoon spent fixing a thruster or replacing parts for the engine.

Even though to most, his physical appearance seems unkempt and uncared for, it was not true. In fact, it could not be farther from the truth. The captain knew the man took time to shave, leaving only a light beard and tried to ensure his hair was always short, out of the way. It was not much to most people, but Yondu knew those two things were important for the man to feel comfortable in his skin.

No long hair, and no long beards, it just interfered in the work as far as he was concerned, and the captain had no problem with that. Everybody has that thing that drives him or her crazy if not maintained, and his first mate was no exception. Shuffling inside, he made his way to the bed, staring ahead at the wall as he sat on the tucked blanket; many times, he found himself here, thinking about different things, but in the end they all led back to the issue at hand.

An issue he still needed to resolve as he heaved a heavy sigh, letting his head fall into his hand, elbow resting on his right knee.

"Kraglin…"

* * *

He is not sure how long he screams, his hoarse voice cracking, throat feeling torn apart by this point. The burning wouldn't stop, it just dug deeper into his skin, an image of barbed wire in the shape of an 'S' was now branded onto his body, just above his left hip. He must have been unconscious when they tore part of his ravager pants away to make room for the brand; why they had not taken them completely was a mystery to him, but not one he was about to verbally question.

He was thankful to have what remained of his ravager garb on, most of it torn apart, but still whole enough to cover him and provide some warmth to his legs. The creatures in front of him talk amongst themselves, their language is one he does not understand, and one he hopes never to hear again. They are hideous creatures, their appearance rivaling that of the Chitari, their skin wrinkled, and hanging from their faces like someone had stretched it too far.

The eyes of his captors were small and round with no color; fingers bony and long, they were about a foot taller than himself, which made them around seven feet, maybe a little more. They wore little to no clothing, shuffling their feet while they walked with a hunched posture; Kraglin saw the smaller one of the three make its way to the lock that held the chains in place.

It appeared to smile while grabbing the keys from its belt, picking out a longer one and sliding it into the rusted object; Kraglin saw one turn of the key before the chain slackened and he dropped, his knees hitting the concrete first before he fell forward. The pain on his waist forgotten as his head bounced from the impact, leaving a new gash on the left side of his forehead and vision turning white while his brain seemed to flop around in his skull.

"Agh… Couldn't warn a person before dropping 'em on his head?" He was surprised he was able to get that much out before one of the creatures buried its foot into his back, reigniting the pain from his branding. The guttural scream that rips from his sore throat takes what little energy he has left, cutting off as he plunged again into darkness.

* * *

**I hope that Yondu did not seem out of character; I see him as someone who, while harsh, is very caring of his crew. **

**Please tell me your honest thoughts, anything I can improve on. Thank you very much, this chapter turned out a little longer than the previous one, and for now, I am not sure how long this story is going to be. On a side note, this does take place after the movie.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own Guardians of the Galaxy**

* * *

**One Month Ago**

Yondu looks down at the limp burden he's carrying, only a coat and body heat to protect him from the cold air of the planet they'd touched down on just a week before. A touch to Kraglin's cheek is enough to tell Yondu his fever is worsening. Concern making its way to his heart as he returns to the cave they've called 'home' while separate from the crew.

The two hour travel through tall snow and weight of his baggage beginning to effect his exhausted body. He stumbles over a jagged rock, making sure to catch himself and not drop his lieutenant in the process.

"Thought you'd be heavier," Yondu walks towards the fire pit he'd made a few days ago, using his foot to unravel the rolled up blanket. Taking a moment to remember how small the man had been when he found him on a backwater planet.

A quiet croak pulls him from his thoughts, _"You always... said I was a-as thin as a twig."_

Carefully, he lowers his first mate to the blanket. It isn't much in the comfort department, but it's better than lying right on solid rock. Yondu cushions Kraglin's head with one their travel packs before tucking in the larger coat. Grabbing two large stones from the floor, he strikes them multiple times before getting a spark and igniting the wood.

Waiting until the fire produces a strong heat before picking up the communicator, flipping a switch while bringing it to his mouth.

"This is Yondu Utonda, Captain of the Eclector. My Lieutenant and I have been separated from the rest of our crew. We're in need of medicine." Yondu lowers the device for a moment, glancing at Kraglin, his fever steadily climbing as he curls into the warmth of his Captains coat. "If anyone is listening, please respond."

Nothing but cold air and silence, he's almost grown accustomed to it. He stares at his first officer, who's shaking hard enough to make his teeth chatter. He balls his fists, standing hastily, emotions quickly reaching their breaking point. He turns to a rock wall to the left of him, punching it again and again, he doesn't see blood falling from his knuckles, nor does he take notice the growls being produced by his rage.

Until a pale, shaky hand grasps his right shoulder, pulling him back and waking him from his trance like state. Yondu grunts, turning around to find his first mate standing on two very weak legs, stopping him from further injury.

"You shouldn't be up, you need to rest."

_"A-And you.. Need t-"_ Kraglin pauses to take a shallow breath; Yondu can see his strength fading, _"to stop... B-B-Blaming yourself."_

The Xandarian's voice is scratchy and low, the captain knows it is paining him to stand, let alone speak. Yondu shakes his head while shifting his weight, not realizing that the only thing standing between Kraglin and the rock floor is himself. Looking towards the cave entrance, a low moan reaches his ear.

The Centaurian turns his head in time to see his first mate tip forward, eyes rolled back into his skull. Falling as if he's boneless into his captains' arms; Yondu takes a deep breath and gets a better hold on the man.

"You always did try my patience, even as a kid."

He carefully maneuvers Kraglin back to the nest by the fire and tucks the coat close to his body, taking a moment to brush the fresh sweat from his first mates forehead.

He keeps watch by Kraglin's bedside until daybreak, helping the man through spells of intense nausea and fevered nightmares. Yondu takes a cup from one of the packs as well as sleeve he'd filled with water earlier. Pouring until it reaches the half way mark, he gently shakes his Lieutenant's shoulder.

"Kraglin, wake up now." The man groans as his captain lifts his head, pressing the cup to his mouth and coaxing him to drink. The minute he feels the water his tongue he drinks greedily, not realizing how parched he'd been. Without warning, the cup leaves his lips, a ping of desperation filling him before a scolding voice follows.

"Hey, slow down! Don't need ya pukin' it back up." Yondu's voice is firm, his face stoic while his eyes give away the concern he's feeling. He waits for a nod before letting the man drink his fill.

Kraglin can't help but gasp as the cups leaves again, his body craving more water as the fever continues to rise, he can feel his captains gaze still fixed on him as he's lowered back to his 'bed'. Eyes sliding shut without his permission, taking comfort in his captain's presence.

Yondu glances over at the small travel pot, a pile of pure white snow melting under the heat of the fire. The Centaurian takes a hunting knife from his pocket, checking the sharpness of the blade while waiting for the water to boil.

***snap***

Yondu lifts his head, the grip on his knife tightening as he stares at the large cave entrance while fresh snow peppers the already thick blanket that covers the landscape.

_'Something ain't right.' _

Yondu narrows his eyes as he walks to the opening, faint shuffling reaching his trained ears while he watches for movement. He's not sure how long he stands guard, barely blinking as he squints to see out further.

Reluctantly he steps back, relieved to hear nothing but the wind blowing past before turning his head to see Kraglin roll onto his right side, clutching at his chest. Even from this distance Yondu can see the mans skin's growing paler.

It doens't take long for the captain to reach his lieutenant, kneeling beside the blanket and throwing his arms around the thin frame. Yondu sits on the ground, lifting the man so he sits between his legs, leaning against his chest to breathe easier.

_"C-Can't breath... Yon-"_

"Hey, calm down." Kraglin is trembling, trying to get more air into his body while taking comfort in the fact that his captain is beside him. Yondu was the only adult that saw him as a child in need of a home, a purpose, not an object to be beat and broken. Kraglin thinks of all the times the crew showed acceptance towards him when Yondu brought him aboard after killing those who'd done wrong by him, promising him a place among them as long as he adhered to the rules of the ship and watched out for his fellow crewman.

Some time passes before Yondu feels the thin man shakily catching his breath. He pulls the man a little closer, hoping that Kraglin will be warmer as he sets about getting the blanket and 'pillow' arranged.

Kraglin rests against his captain, chest rising and falling at a steadier pace as the older man rubs arm with a smirk.

"You good now? Maybe a foot massage ta ease the tension?" Kraglin laughs breathlessly, closing his eyes as he takes in the strong heat his captain puts off. Thankful that he is able to breath easier as he leans against the only 'father' he's ever had in his life, taking comfort in the bond he feels with the older man who helped him become the man he is today.

_"B-Be my guest..."_

Before Yondu can respond a rock lands in the cave entrance. A second passes and a second rock enters, followed by a third and a fourth. The captain moves his right leg, easing Kraglin onto his side as he too watches the odd scene before them.

Neither of them move, Yondu's lips at the ready as another object enters the cave. Flying past the two of them and landing on the ground with a heavy thud. The canister blows open, leaving the cave engulfed in thick greenish purple smoke.

_"Boss, we gotta ge-"_ Kraglin's raspy voice fades as the smoke engulfs him, it doesn't take long for his already weakened body to meet the icy rock. The last thing he sees is his captain calling out to him, fighting off a large figure before collapsing beside him.

* * *

**_"Capta-"_**

_'What is that?'_

"**_Yondu, co-"_**

_'Obfonteri?'_

**_"This is M-Ship 98 pilot Shiju responding to your distress signal. If you're receiving this, please respond."_**

Everything comes back to Yondu slowly, his vision blurry, head swimming as he stretches his left arm. All he feels is rock as he struggles to see through the remaining smoke. The sound coming from the communicator sounds muffled to his ears as he tries to work his vocal cords.

"Kraglin?"

Yondu's throat is sore as he pushes himself up, fighting off the nausea and getting to his feet. The air's still hazy and heavy. 'That was some powerful stuff.' Yondu doesn't think too long on the effects of the gas, instead readying the Yaka arrow while scanning for any sign of the enemy or his lieutenant.

"Answer me!"

Yondu almost feels helpless as he listens for a response that deep down he knows isn't going to come. With a heavy sigh and a heavy heart, the arrow's back in his holster. All he finds is their supplies and his coat discarded at the entrance. The still woozy Captain limps to the opening of the cave, snatching his long coat from the ground and throwing it on before fastening the supply pack to his back.

**_"This is M-Ship number 98 waiting for response. Please come in."_**

He tries to reel in his anger, breathing deeply through his nose as his face burns a deeper shade of blue with frustration. One fist balled at his side while his other hand grips a rock jutting from the wall. Yondu growls, ignoring the pain shooting up his leg as he stomps to the back of the cave, grabbing the communicator from the ground and lifting it to his mouth.

"Shiju, I'm on the east side of the planet. There's a large cave on the outskirts of the mountains, you should see it from the ship."

A sigh of relief comes over the speaker.

_"**Good to hear ya Boss; I'm circling 'round to retrieve you both."**_

Yondu takes a deep breath. He's sure the anger leaks through as he stares down at the icy cave floor, approaching the once roaring fire pit while slowly lifting the communicator and pushing down the navy colored button. "Kraglin ain't with me. We were attacked, he was taken. I couldn't see their face, and they spoke a language I didn't recognize."

There's a pause, only static coming in over the speaker while the Centurion kicks ice; taking a step back to sigh before making his way towards the entrance of the cave.

**_"Got it. I'm coming, get ready."_**Shiju tightly grips the ship controls, shaking his head as he tried to imagine what could have happened to bring down the highest-ranking members of the Ravagers. He radios the Elector to inform them of the situation, turning the wheel to circle around; it levels before taking off at full speed to his captains' position. He doesn't reply to the next message that comes in through his speaker.

"I'm waiting outside."

* * *

**_Sorry for the long delay, my internet is limited right now. But I've been working on this for awhile, so I hope you all enjoy. Also, I had to change this chapter around so that people don't think that Yondu and Kraglin are romantically involved. I had a friend who thought this was the case when reading it and felt I should clarify that their relationship is that of father/son. I like the idea of Kraglin being found by Yondu and the Ravagers as a former slave or as a child which is largely due to RedHatMeg and DonatelloSeven, whose stories have these elements in them. If you haven't already, I highly recommend their work. DonatelloSeven's work is on Ao3. (Archive of our Own)  
_**

**_I know that Yondu is 'out of character', but I always feel that deep down, he must have some compassion considering he kept/raised Quill when he could have handed him to his father like the job entailed. I like the idea of him developing a strong bond with his crew, especially those that he saw some of himself in. Like Kraglin, who had nothing, just like Yondu when his race was destroyed. So please don't think that their closeness is because of romantic feelings buried within, it's an instinct in Yondu to protect what's his, that includes his belongings and his crew, who he would lay down his life for and also mourn deeply when alone after they're dead or, in Kraglin's case, taken._**

**_Please tell me your thoughts_**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own Guardians of the Galaxy**

* * *

**Present**

**_"So that's all that happened when you were both planet side?"_** Yondu sighs, narrowing his gaze, as he looks ready to strangle the young Starlord. The remaining guardians sit behind their leader as he paces the flight deck of the Milano. Any Ravagers still on the deck besides the navigators remain silent as well.

"Can your Nova lackeys help us or not!?" Yondu's voice is rough and tired. Has been ever since he'd been taken off that planet. If he isn't barking orders at his crew, he's taking his frustration out on the training equipment. Peter continues pacing, running one hand through his hair while his team watches. Finally Rocket stands, pointing a claw at the monitor and baring his teeth as he growls.

**_"I got a question for ya. Why wait a month to call for help?" _**

Yondu steps away from the Navigators chair, disappointment etched into his face, eyes suddenly staring into space as his hands burrow deeper into the coat pockets. The

"What kinda captain can't find one of his own men?" His voice grows quieter with every word, the tension quickly thickening. Rocket unconsciously fiddles with his hands as his ears fold, taking his seat while Quill watches his old mentor with concern. He knows a beat man when he sees one.

_"**The kind of captain that exhausts every other option. Searches sleeplessly for any scrap of good news, never letting go of the hope that you'll find who you're looking for."** _Peters smile reaches his eyes as he faces the monitor. One hand resting on the Milanos console, voice nothing short of positive as he looks into the eyes of the blue Captain.

**_"It's a stubborn captain who refuses help until they've hit rock bottom and decide to call on another for support. A captain who can remain strong under a lot of pressure."_**

Silence falls over both ships as Peter wraps up his little speech, that smile still brightening his face. Yondu rubs his chin and looks ahead, only giving the young man a small smirk. Shaking his head in mock disappointment as he stares at the man he and his crew had risen.

"This is what happens when you let 'em fill your head with sentiment."

_**"Says the Captain who makes a habit of taking in stray children."**_

Peter's retort is unexpected, one that makes Yondu pause. The young Starlord takes a minute to laugh before his smile falls, a more serious expression adorning his features.

"**_I'm sure Dey can help us find any channels that may have picked up your distress signal."_**

The Centaurian nods with a grunt, turning on his heel and walking to the door. He can't help thinking about how he'd failed his most trusted crewmember, and could potentially fail his entire crew. Yondu may be a man of tough punishment, fair _'trials'_, and strong resolve, but if there's one thing he can't allow, it's letting those who look to him as Captain be killed or failed due to his incompetence.

"**_Yondu... I promise we'll bring him home."_**

Silence fills the cockpit of the Eclector.

The last thing Peter sees is his former Captain stopping in the doorway, only giving a wave of his hand before the screen goes blank. He takes a deep breath, leaning on the Milanos console before turning to face his crew, he throws his hands together in a loud clap, replacing the serious look with one of positivity.

"Alright, let's get to work guys."

No one approaches or speaks as they watch their Captain traverse the long halls of the Elector. Yondu walks down the hall, a scowl on his face and a pain in his heart. He pulls out a small device; paying no attention to the eyes following him, he only listens to the groans of the ship, feeling coolness in the air.

With a flick of the switch it powers up, a large list of languages appearing before him. Yondu resumes his search, listening to the different languages and accents that slip through the speakers. Within ten minutes, he finds himself entering an all too familiar room.

* * *

"ar eich traed!"

Blood drips from the gash on his temple as he pries one eye open. He's still on his stomach. Knees throbbing and chest heavy as he struggles to breathe through the pain in his hip.

"i fyny!"

Boney hands grab his upper arms, pulling him up too quickly, dizziness overwhelming him as he pitches forward, bile turning in his stomach. The concrete below him cracked, many scratch marks covering it as if at one time someone had been clawing at it. Kraglin's eyes droop, mouth hanging open as he stares down at the ground; two of the creatures pulling him out of the room and into the hall; his feet dragging on the concrete.

He cannot lift his head enough to see where they're taking him. Staring at trails of blood, both old and new as they pass, all he can do is try to stay strong. This is hard when a deep headache continues to drill into the center of his forehead, deep bruises forming on his left cheekbone and jaw line.

"W-Where we g-goin'?" The creatures laugh, hearing the slur in his voice as they open the door to a medium sized cage that sits in the center of a large, bare room. Kraglin sees clothing and rags scattered across the floor of the cage along with different colored stains, rust covers the bars and the wheels look as though they're barely supporting it.

"Don't p-put me i-in... There!" He's barely able to raise his voice, so focused on the cage that he doesn't notice the creatures slapping chains onto his wrists. Kraglin feels goose bumps forming from the cold metal as more chains attach to his ankles, his attempts to fight them off met with more laughter as they pull him forward.

"N-No..."

They release his arms, stepping to the side as one takes his position behind him, putting one hand on the wounds littering his back and shoving him into the cage, watching him fall to his side with a weak cry of pain. One of the taller ones slams the door shut, making sure it's locked before making its way to a large metal door.

He hears them unlocking the wheels along with them pulling open the large door that leads to one of the many exits that fill this place. There's a harsh jerk as they push the rusted metal box into the hall, the wheels squeak constantly, sounding as though they'll give out at any second. Kraglin's chains rattle as he's tries to get in a more comfortable position. He groans as they hit holes in the concrete, managing to open his eyes enough to see the crowded cells they're passing.

Some of them filled to the brim with others that have been captured, all waiting for death to meet them before they're sold.

"fyny'r ramp ! ein bod yn hwyr!"

Kraglin ignores the leaders yelling, instead biting his lip as they push the cage up a ramp and he slides into the bars with a painful moan. The wounds on his back pressed against the rusted metal, blood running down them as tears wet his cheeks.

When he finally gathers the strength to open his eyes, the light of the planet is too intense for him to keep them open for long. There's another bump, another groan, a twinge of pain and the cage stops. He can hear crowds of what sound like people; feel the dust that's kicked up from hurried footsteps as he's pulled at by the aliens. His pain is beginning to fade, numbness taking its place as they try to sit him upright. Kraglin looks at the ringleader, body going limp as his eyes roll back.

* * *

Dey stands off to the side, staring at the ground as Quill finishes his tale. All he can do is shake his head, taking a pad from the table and flipping through the settings.

**_"I'll see what I can do and I'll inform Nova Prime of the situation."_**

Sitting down at the table with a map in hand, Gamora waves at Dey. Drax stays of to the side to sharpen his blades while Rocket tinkers with his weapons. The only two standing are Peter and Groot, both positioned to the right of the table while Dey downloaded information from the area of Yondu's distress signal.

**_"All right, I have it."_**

Drax takes his gaze from his current task, fixing it on Dey. "We are appreciative."

**_"I'll contact you if I find anything."_**

* * *

The ship's doctor leans against the wall, watching his captain down a shot of his homemade painkiller. He remembers making it specifically for the captain when all other medicines seemed useless. It burns Yondu's throat but never fails to do away with his headaches.

"Not sleeping, sir?"

Yondu locks his gaze on the purple-skinned alien, those large yellow eyes full of curiosity and genuine concern. He wears a whitish grey Ravager uniform instead of the usual burgundy, opting for the more traditional color for a doctor's coat while also allowing it to look roughed up.

'_He always was softer than most.'_

"What do think you, Obdal?" Yondu scoffs, forcing himself to smile as he stares at the ships doctor, knowing of the bags beneath his eyes. The doctor straightens up, his concerned expression changing to one of victory as he stands eye to eye with his captain.

"Time for some proper rest." Obdal smiles, plucking the glass from his captains loosening grip. His free arm wrapping around the older mans waist as he starts to sink to floor. Yondu's eyes pinch shut while he rubs his head, groggily pushing away from the doctor. His attempts are futile, only getting a chuckle from Obdal as he's led to bed.

"You call this helping?" Yondu's voice slurs as the other man deposits him onto an infirmary bed.

"Yes."

He's not sure if the captain hears his response, and he can't help but smile. For the first time in a week, the captain is resting peacefully.

* * *

**Had to use Google translate, I know it's not accurate, but it's all I have right now.**

**"ar eich traed"** -"On your feet"

**"i**** fyny"** \- "Up"

**"fyny'r ramp ! ein bod yn hwyr" - **"Up the ramp! We are late!"


End file.
